Sew Fun!

It all began with my forty-five year old Singer Touch and Sew sewing machine passing last fall. After such loyalty, you can't just buy ANY machine.  After an exhaustive...and I mean EXHAUSTIVE search I bought the Baby Lock "Elizabeth" model.

Meet Elizabeth.

 

The purse above was made for my daughter-in-law.  The one below I just made for my granddaughter.  It is about a third of the size.  I'll get a button for it tomorrow.  No doubt she will want her purse to look just like Mommy's.

The purse just above was made for my daughter.  Just tilt your head a little to the left to see it.  It has a pocket for a good sized smartphone.  Just like her Mommy's - me!

Sewing - it is just sew fun!

So Long My Friend

Nancy and I met at church.  She was a rascal and I loved her energy. Over time we spent years together growing up. 

There were the weekends at her home or mine. Almost every one. At mine, we always went shopping and bought fabric. We would spend the entire weekend sewing something.  At the conclusion, we both had garments.  Often a dress for school,

Then there were the times we spent at her home.  Sometimes we would fish (like the dreadful time we caught one in the eye and her dad saved the moment).  There was the time we discovered Lady Chatterley's Lover tucked away in her parent's bookshelf.

We quietly went downstairs to their finished recreation room.  Her father who had been a POW in Korea came downstairs looking for a tool.  He asked what we were doing.  We were speechless.  He grabbed the book from our hands and put it in the suspended ceiling. My friend was willing to let it go but instead, I got a ladder and we finished reading the book. Nancy and I agreed this was important for our education -  budding teens and all.

In late November in the early 60s, we watched President Kennedy's funeral at her home.  At twelve, no one knows what to say.  It was so unbelievable, even her parents were at a loss for words. Those were the days when you trusted your government.  We know better now.

So many memories.  I am grateful she reached out to me some years back.  And more than grateful to have shared so much with her. 

I will truly miss you, Nancy.

He was one of the kindest people.  She knew it instantly.  He also had a dark side.  Then she remembered:

London Summer

Rain lashed against the house dropping in sheets.  Puddles formed in the cracked red clay on the parched ground.  It was eight a.m. and almost as dark as night.  With the rain came a freshness, a release of all the yesterdays with a promise of tomorrow.

                                                                       NBP

It wasn't London, but it could have been. Umbrellas became as constant as carrying a purse to a yard sale.  Cloud cover floated by opening to glorious blue skies and a sun more spectacular than it has the right to be.

Half a dozen female cardinals flew by dropping to the ground.  The males were radiant tucked safely in the hemlock and pine trees. Chatter was everywhere as birds sang out their hearts.  Three crows landed as the cardinals flew off.  A cool breeze drifted in as the leaves began to sway. 

At once, the sky draped gray.  Lightening cracked overhead as the chorus of birds quieted. A London summer had returned.

Grandmothers Against Fracking!

Who doesn't love a grandmother? 

My own grandmother was warm and loving and kind.  Maybe that is why I became a gerontologist.  I loved old folks.  Their stories.  Their charm.

Grandmothers love children.  They don't want to see them sad, harmed or at risk.  That is why we began GRANDMOTHERs AGAINsT FRACKING.

Please like us on Facebook!  And join!  

Ice Cream, Please!

A couple of night's ago, I started feeling lousy.  It began with a sore throat, moved into my joints, neck. From there, every part of my body hurt.  Hot sweats, cold, back and forth. The sore throat worsened.  Last night was just plain awful.  Up at 3 a.m.  Asleep at 6 a.m. Again.

I don't get sick often. 

Several people called last night inquiring about my health.  The last one told me to climb in bed.  Now.

I listened as I was both coughing and yawning.  Hardly lovely conversation.  I appreciate the calls.

So I literally fell into bed. There were  two sets of queen sized quilts doubled over me for warmth, a blanket and a sheet.  In no time I was out.

All plans were cancelled today except for one early in the morning.  I couldn't get  back home soon enough to climb back into my cozy sectional, under the quilt.

Between the sore throat and cough, I knew it was time for comfort AND relief. There was no way I could get to the store. So I made ice cream.

It'll take a few hours to solidify. 

Meanwhile, back to...

Tomorrow...It won't start without me.

Where I Belong

Today is a day of gratitude. One year ago I was living in an apartment along the New England coast.  The drive along the beach revealed a sparkling ocean with sunlight dancing on it. I miss the drive.  I miss the setting sun. I am grateful for the experience.

And then there is home.  Where my heart lives.  It feels warm there.  Orange, red, green.  It is gentle, easy.  Slow.  It is mindful and present.  It is me.

I made the trip back home to bountiful.  Before its time.  Back home. With gratitude.  Where I belong.

Red, White And Blue

This weekend is a time to reflect.  And remember.  The Fourth of July is about independence.  It is not about war.  Carina Kolodny said it well.

Carina Kolodny
Sr. Editor for Special Projects, The Huffington Post

This Is Not Your Independence Day

Every year, proud U.S. citizens across the country take a break from daily life to commemorate the birth of America. Dusting off the grill, buying frozen meat en masse, attempting to retreat to the nearest body of water, and putting sparklers in the hands of small children might not be exactly what our founding fathers envisioned, but who am I to argue with a long weekend? I enjoy a good fireworks show as much as the next girl. And beachside BBQs? I'm in. Red, white, and blue happens to be the color scheme of my most flattering bikini, so by all means, pass the veggie dogs and pump up the revelry.

But amidst the pomp and circumstance, please don't wish me a "Happy Independence Day!"
The 4th of July might commemorate the independence of our country -- but it also serves as a bitter reminder that in 1776, the country that I love had no place for me in it.

When our founding fathers penned, "All men are created equal," they meant it. Not all people. Not all humans. Just all men -- the only reason they didn't feel obliged to specify "white" men is because, at the time, men of color were considered less than men, less than human.

The 4th is not my Independence Day -- and if you're a Caucasian woman, it isn't yours either. Our "independence" didn't come for another 143 years, with the passage of The Woman's Suffrage Amendment in 1919. The 4th of July is also not Independence Day for people of color. It wasn't until the 15th Amendment was ratified in 1870 that all men had the right to vote regardless of race -- on paper, that is, not in practice. People of color were systematically, and all too successfully, disenfranchised for another century. July 4th of 1776 was certainly not a day of Independence or reverence for Native Americans. It wasn't until 1924 that Native Americans could unilaterally become citizens of the United States and have the voting rights to go with it.

Now, before anyone argues that Independence is about more than voting rights, I'd like to point out that our Founding Fathers would fundamentally disagree with you. The Revolutionary War was fought, in large part, because of "taxation without representation" -- the then English colonists believed they were not free because their voices were not represented. The right to vote, the right to have your say is the delineating characteristic of a democracy.

There is nothing finite about freedom. July 4, 1776 was a definitive step forward in the struggle toward freedom and democracy but we were a long way off from achieving it. And while we have advanced in leaps and bounds -- my patriotic swimwear goes over way better in Williamsburg, Brooklyn than it would have in Colonial Williamsburg -- we are still a far way off from the freedom and independence we're celebrating.

A resurgence in voter ID laws put in place to once again disenfranchise minorities challenges our collective independence.

This week's Hobby Lobby ruling -- deciding that a woman's employer has any say in her health care -- is a challenge to the ideology of freedom and autonomy our country was founded upon.
The on-going fight for marriage equality prevents same-sex couples in many states from the pursuit of happiness that they are constitutionally guaranteed.

So by all means, enjoy your long weekend. Raise a beer to the ideals of progress and democracy that the 4th of July represents.

But remember that you are celebrating the birth of an imperfect union, remember that the fight for 'freedom' has yet to be won -- and if you must wish someone a "Happy Independence Day!", make sure you're doing something to maintain and advance the Independence you have come to appreciate.